


nice to meet you (will you be mine?)

by industandstarlight



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Erik is Crushing Harder than a 12-year Old Girl, Erik is a Sweetheart, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 06:09:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8001412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meet cute scenarios from tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	nice to meet you (will you be mine?)

**Author's Note:**

> prompt:
>
>> Okay so I just had my freshman orientation and at fuck o’clock in the morning (it was actually 6 am) these guys started playing drums _really loud_ to rally the people, and I was so torn between admiring them – they were really into it, and the arrangement was amazing – and telling them it was too early for this shit.
>> 
>> Two other thoughts had crossed my mind then.
>> 
>> One went something along the lines of, ‘ _Oh my god, I’m turning into Erik._ ’
>> 
>> The other was just insistently telling me to just _cherik it cherik it cherik it cherik it_
>> 
>> …so I Cherik’d it XD (Maybe someday I’ll turn it into a full-fledged story, but for now: a ficlet!)
> 
>   
> Originally posted last year. And I'm starting my second year in a few days. Damn.  
> Also with minor edits, because I cringe at my 17-year-old writing. And I know nothing about wheelchairs, or if their wheels can loosen at all, but _fic_. 

He arrived an hour before the registration even started. Of course he did.

Edie had worried the night before and this morning about the traffic and he listened like the good son he was. Of course he did.

The campus was dead when he first arrived, weeks before he was scheduled to move to his dorm and the school would actually open. But he’d take that silence with the occasional janitor that he fumbled awkwardly to greet back every time they passed over this cacophony any day.

Erik barely managed to restrain himself from flinching when the drums started.

He looked over his shoulder; as he whiled away at his phone—tumblr was his only savior in that hour—he hadn't noticed the increasing number of students that pooled in the main area.

And oh god, people are cheering now. What was obviously the male pep squad was booming across the lawn, looking far too peppy at  six o’clock in the morning. _It’s too early for this shit._

_At that my friend, I have to agree._

Erik’s head snapped up, his neck popping audibly. He groaned, rubbing at the nape, when he was caught up in the most clearest blue eyes he’s ever seen.

The man—his wheelchair finally registering as the absent buzz at the back of his head—winced with him in sympathy, before flushing, pink staining his cheeks the same dark color as his lips. He opened his mouth to say something, but the drummers chose that exact moment to thunder away.

 _I’m sorry, but this is much easier, yes?_ He had two fingers to his temples, biting his lips somewhat nervously. Erik realized he was waiting for a reply when the man’s words stumbled into each other in his mind. And it was his mind, wasn’t it? His lips, unnaturally red as they were, moved but not to form the words. _I’m so sorry, I should—_

 _Wait_ , Erik sent quickly, dimly worried if the man could hear him at all. But he did wheel back from an aborted turn, so he supposed he did.  _It’s okay. I was just surprised._

And before he could think twice, he had a hand thrust out between them.  _Erik Lehnsherr._

 _Charles Xavier,_  he floated back as he shook Erik’s hand, distractingly firm, a brilliant smile blooming it’s way across his face. Erik absently thought that he could finally understand where those cliché metaphors come from; and promptly panicked, because Charles could so obviously read him.

 _Oh no, think away. I don’t mind. Not at all._  He was laughing silently now, eyes bright and looking far too pleased with himself. Erik swore he could feel the flashing warmth of it in his own mind, teasing out a matching grin from him.

_I really am sorry if I intruded. It’s just that I came here alone, and your mind, really, it’s striking, and you’re the only mutant I’ve seen here so far—_

Erik should be surprised—he hasn’t done anything to reveal himself yet—but at the moment he could only feel a certain thrill, glad that he wasn’t alone.

 _—and I promise you I wasn’t prying, it’s just that that thought of yours was particularly loud and—oh,_  Erik. Charles stopped, eyes going soft.  _Of course you’re not alone._

Erik coughed, feeling slightly awkward with the brush of affection. _Of course I’m not alone. Mutants are increasing exponentially with every generation. There’s bound to be at least a few here._ Erik tried hard not to think about how he liked the attention anyway. He doesn’t think he’s successful.

 _Your wheel’s loose,_  he tells Charles to change the subject.

 _Really?_ He looks down, rolling his chair back and forth as if to check. Erik rarely ever used the word adorable, but it was really only way to describe what he was seeing.

 _Here, let me._  He raised a hand in front, sensing for the defect. He quickly tightened it, smoothing the alignment of all the metal parts as well as an afterthought. The chair must’ve been older than he thought, considering the wear he could feel. Erik took care to keep the it steady on the ground, unsure how Charles would welcome his tinkering. _Is that okay?_

Charles did the wiggling thing again, visibly awed.  _You’re right. That’s much better. Thank you._

He smiled up at Erik, not as flirty as before, but seemingly more heartfelt. Erik fought the urge to duck his head—he wasn’t _high school_ anymore for heaven’s sake —and kept his eyes to Charles’.  _My pleasure._

_Telekinesis?_

The din was gone he noticed, yet Erik couldn’t bring himself to speak out loud.  _Metallokinesis._

He floated his phone between them, then in an orbit around Charles’ head. Charles looked delighted, clapping sofly. Erik whimpered inside.

 _That’s brilliant,_ he gushed, the words trickling like cool water in Erik’s mind.

“What program are you in?” Charles asked out loud, and it takes Erik a moment to respond. He’d heard the accent in his head of course, but the real thing still startled him, the posh baritone doing things to his stomach.

“Mutant Studies. Double major with PolSci,” he answered, voice only slightly hoarse. The knowing look on Charles was swiftly replaced with excitement.

“Mutant Studies. Double major with Biochemistry. What block are you in?”

“N74.”

_N74 as well here, my friend. Looks like you’re stuck with me._

Erik thought he should be more annoyed at the assumption, but found that he didn’t mind it at all. Of course he didn’t.


End file.
